


Mind Your Words

by peachybitters



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Comfort, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Discipline, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi hugs, Light Angst, Male Friendship, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual, Obi-Wan is done, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Parental Obi-Wan, Spanking, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachybitters/pseuds/peachybitters
Summary: Obi-Wan reminds Anakin that there are consequences for careless behavior for young Jedi on missions. Note: Story contains spanking of a 16-year-old. No sexual relationship, no smut.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 61





	Mind Your Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marybunnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marybunnie/gifts).



> 1\. So if you didn't read the summary this contains the spanking of a fictional teenager. This doesn't reflect my real world views on anything, I just like being a mean bully to fictional characters. Anakin mostly.

People throughout the Republic generally agreed that Galiforian parties were among some of the finest in the Galaxy. Lavish affairs, they were a staple of the culture, given by poorer classes for important life events such as weddings or the birth of a child, and for the more wealthy classes often for no reason at all.

This particular party - a royal ball- was being thrown to celebrate the signing of a treaty written to ease some tensions between the people of Galafor and a recently established mining colony in the Southern regions, and it felt to Obi-Wan that perhaps the whole population of the planet, which was not terribly large, had been invited. The huge marble halls of Galafor’s Grand Palace certainly seemed spacious enough to accommodate them. 

No one had asked his opinion, and he didn’t expect them to, but if they _had_ they’d know that he thought the whole thing was overkill really. Especially the presence of Jedi at the ball and the ceremonies that had led up to it. He and his Padawan were only here because of a bombing at a similar treaty signing on Khenz’e a few weeks back and there was a lot of paranoia going around political circles on Coruscant. To ease the minds of the delegation from Galafor and many other nervous personages in the Senate, the Supreme Chancellor had personally requested Jedi to be present for the signing and subsequent activities.

The mission - if you could even call it one- had been presented to Obi-Wan by the Council as something of a gift or a ‘thank you,’ after they realized that Obi-Wan and Anakin had been nearly blown to bits on the three consecutive missions leading up to this one. Presumably, it would give them some time to unwind. For his part, Obi-Wan would have preferred a mission where they could stay in a cabin in the woods for a week - or anywhere really where he would not have to talk to politicians, but he supposed this would have to do.

He scanned the crowd, feeling again the need to locate his Padawan. Anakin had been enjoying himself greatly on this assignment. Not that there was anything wrong with that, exactly, but he didn’t want the boy to forget that they _were_ working. He remembered how confusing it could be to go from those grueling, dangerous missions to the cushy diplomatic ones. It was hard to remember sometimes that even the latter could turn deadly in a heartbeat.

Anakin might have been enjoying himself perhaps a little too much really. The Galaforians of the royal court, especially the young ones, were enamored with him, admiring his youthful beauty and his amusing stories. Their awe of him had not been lost on the Padawan, and it had gotten to the point where he had almost started swaggering around the place. Obi-Wan had felt the need to start watching him a little more closely than he might have otherwise.

It wasn’t hard to pick Anakin out of the room. For one thing, the humans of Galafor tended to run a bit on the shorter side, and the sixteen-year-old Anakin, who had not long ago reached his full and impressive height, loomed above many of them. Also, he happened to be one of the few people in the room not wearing an elaborate, sparkly outfit. At the moment Obi-Wan spied him tenderly kissing the hand of a giggling young lady who appeared completely overwrought by his “charms”.

 _Laying it on a bit thick_ , he thought. Obi-Wan’s opinion was that his padawan had learned too many “diplomacy” techniques from the insipid serial programs he watched via the holonet on long hyperspace journeys when he thought his master wasn’t paying attention.

Obi-Wan sensed something then. Not danger exactly, but some kind of warning. Something unpleasant. He looked around the room, trying to hone in on the source. The source of the feeling turned out to be a young man, perhaps a year or so older than Anakin, who at the moment was directing a murderous glare at him from across the room. Obi-Wan looked back over at his oblivious Padawan, who seemed to be too busy charming the pretty girl to take notice of anything else. Obi-Wan decided he would step in.

He approached the couple, smiling pleasantly. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I need to borrow my apprentice for a few moments.”

The girl giggled, and blushing, scurried away. Anakin watched her for a moment to turn back to his master, grinning.

“Anakin, I can’t help but notice the only company you’ve kept this evening is that of lovely young ladies,” Obi-Wan said. “Why not try and speak with a wider variety of people?”

“They keep coming to _me_ , Master,” Anakin said defensively.

“I’m sure that’s been a real hardship for you,” Obi-Wan said. “Nevertheless, do try and branch out a bit, and don’t give anyone ideas about what your intentions are here.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re exactly making the rounds,” Anakin said sulkily. “I only ever seem to see you talking to Senator Adan. Where is your boyfriend, anyway?”

“Perhaps you’d like to go upstairs to bed,” Obi-Wan offered. This was not the first time Anakin had taken a tone with him that day and he was beginning to tire of it.

“No, Master, sorry,” Anakin sighed.

“I just think you’d best keep a lower profile. There’s a boy who’s been looking at you like he’s out for your blood.”

Anakin laughed, almost giddy. “Oh, him. Lord Caracasa. Yeah, he didn’t like the way his girl was looking at me earlier. He’s been hitting the bar pretty hard all evening.”

Obi-Wan frowned. He didn’t like the cavalier way his Padawan was speaking about all this. “That’s all? You didn’t have an altercation with him?”

“Well...not exactly.”

“And what does that mean?”

Anakin smiled patiently at his mentor. “Master, you know how these rich, spoiled lordlings are. You so much as look at them a little funny and they want your head on a spike.”

“Be very careful, Anakin. Try to avoid conflicts. Whatever our personal feelings might be, we are still servants of the Republic, and it’s not our place to-”

“Yes, Master, I know,” Anakin interrupted him. “I just wish the Galaxy wasn’t so controlled by these types. Don’t you? The Supreme Chancellor says that the concentration of power and wealth in these Core World royal houses is only hindering true democracy and progress in the Republic.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Anakin had lately taken to using Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s words like a bludgeon in any sort of political discussion or disagreement, and it had begun to wear on him.

“That very well may be, and yet the sovereign worlds of the Republic are given much freedom to structure their governments as they see fit, and we as Jedi unfortunately do not get a say in how it’s done.”

“But what if we did?” Anakin said. “The Jedi are far more objective and wise than anyone in the Republic.”

“That is not and has never been our purpose. I don’t care for your line of thinking,” Obi-Wan said, annoyed. They’d been over this topic before.

“When do you ever care for it?” Anakin grumbled.

Obi-Wan gave his apprentice a hard look. It seemed the boy was trying to draw him into an argument, again. After all the excitement of their previous few missions, Obi-Wan supposed he might just be bored. He considered his words carefully, but before he could respond he felt a familiar tug in the Force and turned to see the stubby Senator Adan approaching him eagerly. Anakin was right. The man had barely left him alone since they’d arrived here. The conversation with the senator hadn’t been half bad, however. It was at least more intelligent than most of what the other Galaforians had to offer. 

“Master Jedi, I must have your opinion on the recent unrest on Eriadu...”

The man linked his arm with Obi-Wan’s, a gesture which the Jedi had reluctantly gotten accustomed to. The Galaforians as a rule had only the vaguest concept of personal space.

He looked over his shoulder to see his Padawan smile at him before disappearing again into the crowd. 

_Insolent boy_ , Obi-Wan thought, admittedly somewhat fondly. He supposed he’d have to have faith Anakin would mind what the advice he’d given him. At least the party was finally beginning to wind down. The last dance had been played, and the guests were beginning to trickle out for the evening. Soon it would be time even for the Jedi to retire to their quarters.

* * *

Over the years, Obi-Wan had become quite adept at holding interesting, complex conversations with people while at the same time also being completely aware of his surroundings. He stood now with Senator Adan on the quiet balcony of the Grand Palace, speaking about the recent riots on Eriadu, while maintaining a level of awareness of what was going on inside the ballroom.

He was able to politely excuse himself from the conversation right before it happened, and he was not shocked at the sudden exclamations that erupted through the crowd. There was no fear to be sensed, no danger - not immediate, violent danger - the crowd seemed thrilled, more than anything. Obi-Wan quickly made his way to where many people had gathered around a now upended drinks table. Security had already rushed in and were now helping up the young lord Obi-Wan had noticed earlier. Standing nearby, watching, was his Padawan. There was a smirk playing across his face that did not escape Obi-Wan’s notice, but it quickly morphed into an expression of pained helplessness when he noticed his master looking his way.

Obi-Wan rushed to his Padawan’s side, ready for damage control.

Lord Caracasa was getting to his feet, unsteady from his drink more than the fall, Obi-Wan thought, and aiming a poisonous glare at both Jedi. 

“It was him. Skywalker! The apprentice. He used his powers on me to throw me into the table!”

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s surprise through the Force, but spoke before the boy could defend himself from the unlikely accusation.

“I’m sure there must be a terrible misunderstanding!” He said, looking at the chief of palace security, a man who appeared more confused than anyone. “Might we all go somewhere more private to discuss this?”

“Most certainly, Master Jedi,” the chief security officer said. “This way, please.”

They were led out of the ballroom, leaving behind the quieting murmur of excitement behind them. Obi-Wan sensed that the party would be coming to a halt very quickly after this. He just hoped that the incident would stay out of the local news tabloids. If there was anything the Council hated hearing about, it was the presence of Jedi in sensationalistic headlines. 

Anakin leaned toward him, whispering as they walked. “He’s drunk. This’ll be no problem.”

“Let me handle this,” Obi-Wan said curtly. Of course he didn’t believe that Anakin had used his Force powers to throw the other boy into a table, yet his feelings told him quite clearly that Anakin played a part in the disruption. But whatever part that was would be revealed soon enough.

* * *

The walk back to their shared state room was quiet. To his credit, Anakin had the good sense not to say anything, though he didn’t exactly look abashed, either. The security officers and the palace chief of staff had seemed mortified by the situation, full of apologies toward the Jedi. They’d all reviewed the security holos together, seeing only two boys bickering and then one lunging toward the other while he turned aside and let him fall headlong into the table.

It was good at least that Anakin had not laid hands on the lord, Obi-Wan thought. That made the situation a bit less complicated than it might have been. Still, though the holos were without audio, he could tell his Padawan had spoken aggressively to the young aristocrat, obviously disregarding his master’s admonishments from earlier. He had the sense, too, that Anakin had enjoyed causing the trouble a little bit. He'd thought the boy had grown out of such foolishness by now, but apparently not.

Though he didn’t attempt to shield his annoyance and disappointment with Anakin in the Force, but somehow the boy seemed oblivious. Obi-Wan wasn’t fooled. Acting clueless after misbehavior was an old tactic of Anakin’s, and like always, it would get him nowhere now.

When they entered their chambers, Anakin flung his robe over the back of the sofa before flopping himself down on it and switching on the holonet projector. 

“That was a close one, huh, Master?” He asked over the blare of an advertisement for a luxury spaceliner.

Obi-Wan switched off the HoloNet irritably. “Don’t get comfortable. We have a lot to talk about, Padawan.”

Anakin frowned. “What do you mean? They weren’t angry.”

“And that’s very, very fortunate for you, young one. You should thank the Force our hosts are so gracious and understanding. But you still have some explaining to do.”

Anakin sat up. “I didn’t touch him, Master.”

“No...but you did provoke him into attacking you. Don’t try and tell me you didn’t. And after I warned you to be careful.”

Anakin looked down at his hands, silent.

“What did you say to him?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, sitting down in a plush armchair across from his apprentice.

“Well, he came up to me and started insulting me, calling my clothes ugly, and saying it was a wonder any girls were talking to me.”

“And what’s that to you, Anakin? You know we’re not here to impress people.”

“Well then he started insulting you as well, Master, and all the Jedi,” Anakin continued. “And yeah, well, I might have had a thing or two to say to that.”

“And what exactly was it that sent him over the edge?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin was silent for a moment, holding Obi-Wan’s gaze. “I don’t know,” he said at last.

“Padawan.”

“I might have called his mother a slime eating wamp rat,” Anakin said, breaking eye contact with his master. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Anakin at least had the good sense to remain quiet and not try to excuse himself.

“You do realize,” he said flatly. “That part of our job is to prevent diplomatic incidents, not cause them.”

“I realize that, Master,” Anakin said.

“Did you know that on some planets, one may receive the death penalty for insulting nobility, even in passing?”

Anakin smiled weakly. “Lucky for me this isn’t one of those planets?”

Obi-Wan stood up, for the first time this evening feeling truly angry. “You aren’t taking this seriously at all.”

“I am, Master,” Anakin cried. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I messed up. I got caught up in my emotions. I didn’t think.”

“I’m glad we agree on that,” Obi-Wan said. “You’ll do fifteen minutes of meditation now and then we’ll discuss your punishment.”

“Punish- oh, Master, I don’t need that anymore,” Anakin protested. “I said I’m sorry. And I’m nearly grown. Aren’t I?”

“You certainly are,” Obi-Wan said. “You’re getting too old for these types of talks. But if we need to have them we will. No more arguments.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said quietly. But there was a sulky, childish note to his voice that Obi-Wan didn’t care for at all.

“I want you to go do your meditation in the corner.”

Anakin shook his head, apparently outraged at the suggestion. “The corner? You can’t - Master, I’m not a little kid.”

It was certainly true that Anakin was no longer a small boy, and Obi-Wan hadn’t sent him to stand in the corner for some years. But he felt the boy needed a reminder that being nearly grown didn’t put him above the obligation to behave appropriately, or the consequences for not doing so.

“Well, you’ve certainly acted like one. Perhaps think about that while you’re there.”

With a noise that was something between a groan and a sigh, Anakin stalked over the corner. Obi-Wan was sorely tempted to give the boy a swat for his petulant attitude, but decided to let him have his tantrum for now as long as he stayed put. Things would get sorted out between them soon enough.

He went into his bedroom and closed the door, relishing the silence. He needed some time to think and center himself. He took off his robe and threw it on the too-high and too-lavish bed. How long had it been since he had to seriously discipline his Padawan? Several months, if not over a year. They’d been given more and more missions and less time at the Temple since Anakin had turned fifteen or so, and time had begun to race by. 

They were becoming quite the team, Obi-Wan thought. Often, Anakin’s help had been indispensable when it came to getting them out of tight predicaments. Even for a Jedi, he showed absolutely no fear in dangerous situations, and handled them with the serenity of a Knight twice his age. Still, any Jedi could see that he was still reckless and impulsive, and needed guidance. 

Despite all that, he remained very proud of his Padawan, especially knowing how the boy had struggled to adapt to Jedi ways the first couple years of his training. But Anakin had always pushed forward, had always taken every opportunity to prove himself.

Perhaps, Obi-Wan thought, he’d been a bit too lenient lately. Too focused on Anakin’s accomplishments and not enough on his shortcomings. As full of bravado Anakin might have been, he was quite sensitive underneath at all, Obi-Wan knew, and he’d always been a bit fearful of crushing the boy’s spirit - especially considering his unfortunate early childhood. 

There was something else, too. Obi-Wan had to admit he rather _liked_ Anakin’s rough edges, had decided he’d let time, not training, wear them down. The exuberance, the cheekiness, the enthusiasm. They were part of who he was. He didn’t feel a small amount of guilt over that. Like it or not, he was going to have to impress upon his Padawan, somehow, the importance of keeping a civil tongue. Over the years, how many wars had erupted over the Galaxy over simple insults and thoughtless offenses?

If a Jedi didn’t have even basic grace and courtesy, did it really matter how well they could swing a lightsaber? Years of hard work could fall apart in an instance over one careless remark. Trust in the Jedi and the Republic might be shaken. Lives could be threatened. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew he’d have to be stern with his apprentice to help make sure something like this didn’t happen again.

His time for reflection passed quickly, and he emerged from the bedroom to find Anakin standing where he’d left him. Calmer now, but of course he didn’t have much of a choice.

“All right, Padawan, come here.” Obi-Wan sat down on the sofa and waited for his Padawan to join him.

Anakin turned and came to meet his master, sitting down beside him with downcast eyes. “Master, you’re right,” he said, before Obi-Wan could address him further. “I acted badly this evening, and I’m very sorry.” He looked at his master with pleading eyes. “I really have learned my lesson.”

An old and familiar routine of his Padawan’s. Obi-Wan had heard it before, even fallen for it once or twice, but he resolved that today would not be one of those times. 

“You’ve said similar things before, Anakin. We’ve talked about you running your mouth like this, and yet it’s happened again. How are we going to reinforce this lesson?”

“It won’t happen again! I promise.”

Obi-Wan continued as if he hadn’t heard. “The standard punishment for such carelessness for an apprentice your age iis to return to the Temple on probationary leave. A month should be sufficient.” Obi-Wan braced himself for the fallout from this statement. There was no way Anakin would go quietly back to the Temple.

Anakin’s eyes grew wide, already shining with tears. “You’re kidding! A whole month! No, Master! We’re a team. You can’t just dump me in the Temple-”

“There’s no need to shout, and you really must let me finish,” Obi-Wan said sternly. “I’m actually inclined to think this isn’t what you need in this case.”

Anakin nodded, apparently relieved. “Yes, Master, it isn’t.”

“I think what you need is a very long session over my knee.”

Anakin blinked at him, speechless for a moment before finding his voice. “You’re going to spank me?’

“I think your childish behavior warrants it. I won’t do it against your will, but it’s either that or you return to the Temple. It’s up to you. Either way, you are going to reflect very deeply on your choices.”

Anakin continued to gape, obviously struggling with this information.

“You may think about it for a few minutes, if you like,” Obi-Wan told him. “In the corner.”

“No,” Anakin said abruptly. He bit his lower lip. “So if you spank me..it’ll be over, right? After it’s done?”

“Aside from some meditations, yes. It will be the end of it, and we’ll move forward.”

The boy nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Anakin’s response did not surprise him. As for Obi-Wan, he would not say he exactly felt relieved at the boy’s agreement, but at least they were one step closer to being done with this ridiculous ordeal. “Very well. Before we begin, I want you to understand that this is going to be very unpleasant for both of us, but I will not tolerate any undue complaining or arguing from you. You will do as I tell you, or this is going to be a very long night for us both. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said softly, looking down at his hands.

“All right. You’ll find a bath brush in my ‘fresher. Please bring it to me.”

Anakin opened his mouth as if to argue, but quickly closed it upon seeing the warning look his master was giving him, and rose, disappearing into Obi-Wan’s room. Obi-Wan took the opportunity alone to sigh and rub his hands across his face. The bathbrush would be painful, and he was not looking forward to applying it. But this needed to be a lesson Anakin would remember.

* * *

Anakin found the bath brush straight away after walking in the ‘fresher, hanging on a peg over the bathtub. It was long handled and flat backed, made of a shining dark wood. They didn’t have brushes like this at the Temple that he knew of, but Anakin had seen them in rooms similar to this. He’d never had one taken to his backside, but one look at it could tell him how much it was going to hurt. Picking it up and feeling the weight and sturdiness of it reinforced the notion. 

It had been such a long time since his last spanking that he’d pretty much assumed he was done with those. He’d grown a lot, moved out of the more difficult phases of his late childhood and adolescence. He remembered how when he was younger, he’d used to sometimes take a twisted satisfaction in pushing his master to his limits, for some reason needing to see cracks in Obi-Wan’s serene Jedi composure, if only for a moment. To know that Jedi were just like anyone else, underneath all the carefully cultivated layers peace and calm. Such antics sometimes earned him a trip over his master’s knee, yet even so, he always knew Obi-Wan would be quick to forgive him and their balance as Master and Padawan - as _friends_ \- would be restored. It had sometimes felt worth being punished, to have the assurance that Obi-Wan still loved him after all was said and done. This was the only thing he could find comfort in at this moment. If he didn’t believe, if he didn’t _know_ , that Obi-Wan did in fact care for him, might have bolted out of the palace and escaped into the dark Galiforian night.

Knowing better than to keep his master waiting, he didn’t dawdle, but walked swiftly back out into the sitting room and held the brush out to him, handle first.

“Thank you, Padawan.” Obi-Wan took it and laid it next to him on the sofa.

Anakin took a deep breath and knelt on the floor before his master in a traditional and unpracticed gesture of humility. “Master, I just want you to know that I really am sorry. Deeply sorry. I didn’t-”

Obi-Wan cut him off. “Your lightsaber also, please.”

This wasn’t unexpected. Obi-Wan usually held onto his lightsaber while disciplining him, both for practical reasons and because Padawans in disgrace weren’t considered worthy to carry them. It didn’t worry him too much. Since they were on an assignment he was likely to get it back straight after. Obi-Wan had said this punishment would be the end of it.

Still kneeling, Anakin unclipped his hilt and handed it to his master. “As I was saying, I’m sorry-”

“Save your apologies for later, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said testily. “You’re going to be much sorrier when we’re finished here. Now stand up.”

Anakin looked down at his boots. Of course Obi-Wan could see right through him, that he was trying to get his sentence lessened a bit. But who could blame him?

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Obi-Wan said. “Lower your trousers and over my knee here.” He patted his leg.

With some hesitation Anakin did as he was told, untying his pants’ drawstring and pushing them down just enough. He bit back a comment about how he was really too tall and too _old_ to go over his master’s lap. He was the taller of them now, for kriff’s sake. But he believed Obi-Wan was serious about “no arguing,” so over he went, resting his upper body on the sofa next to his master. If Obi-Wan was trying to make him feel like a child he had to admit it was working, especially when the Jedi placed his right leg over his own, locking them into place. He grabbed one of the sofa cushions and buried his face in it. It smelled good, like a combination of flowers and spices. This might hurt, he told himself, but at least it would be over in a few minutes...

“I’m sorry, but I think these ought to come down as well this time,” Obi-Wan said, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Anakin’s underwear and sliding them down past his thighs.

Anakin flinched as the little protection he had was removed. He couldn’t help himself. “Oh…is it really necessary, Master?” 

“I’m afraid it is. I’m determined to make an impression on you. Now, no more questions until we’re done. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. The better you comply, the sooner we will be done here.”

Anakin swallowed, bracing himself as he felt Obi-Wan firmly place his hand on his back. The first swat came without much delay, spreading a white hot sting across his backside, and more quickly followed. Only a hand though, definitely not the brush. Perhaps Obi-Wan did not intend to use it after all. And did he really need to? Anakin had always been impressed with his master’s swing, and he was certainly in good form tonight. He had somehow forgotten just how much this hurt. It would have hurt almost as much over his underwear, but on bare skin it was growing excruciatingly fiery.

He took a deep inhale, trying to breathe through it. He’d been well trained to withstand and numb his body’s reactions to pain and had an array of techniques he’d become well practiced in. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan would know if he tried any of them, and he’d be in for even more trouble. Just breathing though - that wasn’t against the rules. Still, his eyes began to water from the sting and his breathing started getting ragged. It got a lot harder when Obi-Wan started lecturing him.

“I don’t think I have to tell you how disappointed I am with your behavior this evening.”

A particularly hard smack followed, but the words stung as badly as his master’s hand. Anakin gritted his teeth, not knowing how to answer, or even if he was supposed to. “Then _don’t_ tell me,” he heard himself growl. “I _said_ I was sorry.”

Obi-Wan stopped spanking him and sighed, and Anakin thought he could feel his master’s glare boring into the back of his head. _Oh, why’d I say that_ …

There was a loud smack followed closely by sharp, merciless sting. Obi-Wan had picked up the brush.

“Oh!” Anakin cried, both with pain and dismay, mentally cursing himself for his outburst. He really should have known better. The first rule of getting through a spanking was keeping your mouth shut. Anyone knew that.

“You are only going to needlessly draw this out if you don’t mind your tone,” Obi-Wan told him. Another swat quickly followed, this one on the other side of his buttocks, just as hard. 

“Ow! I’m sorry!”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan gave him two more hard swats, one on each side. Anakin breathed a sigh of relief when he heard him put the brush back down. His butt was still burning horribly all over, especially the stinging spots the brush had touched, but at least there were no new swats to contend with...for now.

“We’re not done with that, but if you keep answering back, I’ll resume it sooner than later. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The _sir_ had slipped out by accident, a holdover from his pre-Jedi life. He knew Obi-Wan didn’t particularly like it, but it always seemed to come out when he found himself in big trouble. “I mean, Master.”

“Anakin how many years have you been my Padawan?”

“Seven, Master.”

Obi-Wan started spanking him again with his hand, again alternating sides. And he was nothing if not thorough; working from the top of his bottom down to the tops of his thighs. Anakin shifted as much as he was able to and whimpered, gripping the sofa cushions below him in an effort not to throw his hands back to shield himself. To do so would surely earn him extra smacks. 

“I would have thought,” Obi-Wan said, “that in seven years you might have begun to understand how a Jedi Padawan should conduct himself while on an assignment.”

“Oww,” was Anakin’s answer to this statement. “Master, I do understand, I just- ow!” He found himself straining uselessly against his master’s iron grip, wishing that he could just move his legs, just a little. Anything would be better than being pinned, helpless, like this.

“You just what?” Obi-Wan asked. “Forgot?”

“Yes! I don’t know!” Anakin said helplessly. “I won’t do it again!”

“I certainly hope not,” Obi-Wan said, not pausing the onslaught at all. “You are rapidly becoming a man, and you’ll find that people have far less patience for the foolish antics of adults than they do for children. Your mouth can get you into a lot of trouble. I hope this helps you remember that.”

“I- will...” Anakin promised, his breath catching slightly. There was no way he would get through this with any shred of dignity remaining. At the moment, going back to the Temple for a month of chores and meditations almost sounded preferable to _this_. Almost relaxing. And Obi-Wan probably wouldn’t be there to scold him,either.

There was a pause in the flurry of smacks, but Anakin did not breathe a sigh of relief this time, instead whimpering a bit in anticipation. He could sense what was coming.

Obi-Wan gave him two hard smacks with the brush on the undercurve of his bottom.

“And perhaps next time you’ll take my advice about keeping a lower profile, instead of completely disregarding it?” He said, delivering another two to the same spot. Anakin gasped, tears at last spilling over from his eyes.

“-understand, Master!”

“I hope so. I know you know better.”

At that, Anakin lost whatever bearing he’d managed to hold onto, and collapsed into sobs, the frustration, guilt and regret finally bursting out from some pent up place in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not just because it hurt, but because his master counted on him, expected him to be better than this. Anakin wasn’t a rookie Padawan kid who didn’t know what he was doing. He was Obi-Wan’s partner; his job was to help him, look out for him. And he’d let him down.

“Please, Master, I really am sorry,” he managed to get out, probably uselessly, as much as he meant it. But if his master thought he needed further punishment, there was little he could do but just take it.

As tempted as he was to stop then, Obi-Wan mustered all his resolve, ignoring Anakin's cries as he gave him several more swats with the brush. He wasn’t bringing it down terribly hard, but on the boy’s tender bottom it was still likely to sting quite a bit. He sighed and set the brush down beside him, almost as relieved as Anakin was bound to be that it was over. As he’d predicted, it had been a difficult task. He may have spanked Anakin before, but didn’t think he’d ever made the boy’s backside such an angry shade of crimson. He flipped Anakin’s tunic back over his bottom, restoring some of his modesty and hopefully dignity. He could pull up his own underwear and trousers when he was ready.

Anakin continued weeping quietly into one of the sofa cushions, evidently unaware or uncaring that his ordeal had ended. If they’d been at the Temple he may have let him cry it out a little more, but since they were still in the field, his Padawan could not be given the luxury of self pity.

“All right, Padawan. Please sit up.” He gave him a firm but gentle tap on the shoulder.

Anakin obeyed at once, sniffling and wiping his flushed and tear-streaked face with his sleeve as he pushed himself gingerly into a seated position. He looked very young; so far from the brash and confident young man his apprentice had become. As he always did, Obi-Wan worried that he’d been too harsh, that the lesson he was trying to teach would get buried and forgotten in the pain and emotions of the moment. He moved his thumb across Anakin’s face, wiping away one of the remaining tears and not knowing exactly what to say. Surely Anakin had been lectured enough for one night. Neither did he want to be too tender, to give him the impression he somehow regretted being stern, no matter how he might secretly feel in his heart. 

“That really hurt,” Anakin said quietly, looking away. He was shifting in discomfort as he readjusted his clothing, trying to find a good position that wouldn’t put pressure on his very sore backside.

“I know. Come here.”

He opened his arms and drew the boy into an embrace. Anakin returned the hug, though with a stiffness that gave away some hesitance on his part. Obi-Wan supposed he couldn’t blame him. 

“I know I’ve been hard on you,” he said quietly. “I don’t enjoy it.”

“I can sense you hate it,” Anakin said. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. I’m not a very good Padawan.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, stroking the back of the boy’s head. “If you weren't a good Padawan you wouldn’t have accepted your correction half as well.” He tilted the boy’s chin up, forcing his still-wet eyes to meet his own. “Don’t dwell on your past mistakes.”

“I won’t, Master.” He relaxed a little, softening now into his master’s embrace.

“I think you could use some healing gel before you go to bed,” Obi-Wan said. “Would you like me to put in on for you, or would you want to do it yourself?”

Anakin dropped his gaze again. “I can do it, Master.”

Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder, not surprised that Anakin wanted to tend to himself after such a humbling and painful ordeal. “All right, go on then. You must be exhausted. And be sure to drink some water.”

Anakin nodded and turned toward his room, wiping a sleeve across his face as he went, and Obi-Wan suddenly chided himself for forgetting.

“Anakin.”

The apprentice turned, wide-eyed, expecting perhaps another reproof. The look stung Obi-Wan somehow; convicted him, even though he’d done nothing wrong. He quickly pulled Anakin’s lightsaber off his belt and handed it to him.

“Don’t forget this.”

Anakin took it quickly, with a guilty look that melted into gratefulness. He murmured his thanks and left his master to sit alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in the darkness, knowing already that the dawn was already far off. The bedroom was silent but for the deep, soft breathing coming from the sofa by the door. Anakin’s.

Confused, Obi-Wan waved his hand toward the lamp on the nightstand, bathing the room in a dim, gentle light. Anakin was indeed sprawled out on the sofa, face down and asleep, his robe spread out over him like a blanket. Well, not asleep anymore. The boy was awake and blinking at him now.

There’s been a time when it hadn’t been unusual for Obi-Wan to wake up in the night to find Anakin in his room, usually sleeping on the floor wrapped in a blanket from his own room. Nightmares, usually. After a time Anakin had outgrown these disturbances, or learned to control them without the comfort of his master. But, Obi-Wan supposed he wasn’t quite grown up yet.

“Bad dream?” He asked when Anakin didn’t speak.

“My bed’s too soft,” Anakin said quietly, rubbing the sleeve of his sleep shirt across his face. Even from his place on the bed, Obi-Wan could see the puffiness of his eyes, still unsoothed by sleep.

“I see,” Obi-Wan said, not entirely believing him. Through the Force, he could sense traces of lingering pain surrounding Anakin, so sharp he could almost feel them himself. “You didn’t put any of the gel on, did you?”

Anakin gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess I was tired. I just went to sleep.”

Obi-Wan didn’t quite believe that, either. He should have known. Even after all these years, Anakin still remained stubbornly hesitant to use the wonder-working bacta and nysillin medicines for minor injuries. Where he’d grown up, such things had been precious and expensive luxuries only to be used for the gravest of needs. He’d used to chase the reluctant boy around with the stuff in the months after he’d brought him to the Temple, always attempting to minister to an endless succession of scrapes and bruises.

Obi-Wan reached for the medkit on his nightstand. “Right. We’ll take care of this now.”

He moved to the couch, pulling the tube of bacta gel from his kit and handing it out to Anakin, who shrugged the robe off himself, but didn’t reach out for it.

“You can put it on me, Master,” he said softly, resting his head on his folded arms as if waiting.

Without questioning, Obi-Wan knelt down and Anakin pushed his sleeping pants down about halfway off his bottom, clearly not relishing the idea of having it on full display again. Obi-Wan could work with that. He did not think Anakin had anything to be embarrassed about, as they would always need to be one another’s medics in the field as long as they worked together, no matter how discomfiting the injury - but he supposed Anakin didn’t care to be fully reminded of the indignity of his recent punishment.

He worked quickly, applying the gel in a thin layer before pulling Anakin’s pants up for him again. The boy breathed out a contented sigh, already soothed. The worst of the pain was gone now, and most would be gone by morning.

Obi-Wan reached out and stroked his short hair gently. “You should sleep better now, silly boy. I should have done this for you when you were over my knee, since you can’t be trusted to care for yourself.”

Anakin snorted. “You’re one to talk. Remind me who didn’t take care of his bug bites on that swamp moon and they got infected?”

“Remind me who crashed our ship next to that smuggler’s outpost?”

Anakin’s eyes were closing, but the memory had coaxed a sleepy smile to his face. “Well, I got us out, too. And tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Obi-Wan laughed a bit, in spite of himself. “All right. Time for bed.”

“Can I stay here?” Anakin muttered, making no attempt to rise. “I’m comfortable. And I told you my bed is too soft.”

“No harm in that,” Obi-Wan said. He pulled Anakin’s robe back over the boy.

“I know I’m a pain sometimes,” Anakin said as his master turned to return to his own bed. “But don’t worry, soon I’ll be ready for the Trials and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned the light off. Anakin had been talking about the Trials a lot lately, eager to prove himself after his string of recent successes in the field. But despite his skills, he was still a bit young, and in more than just age. Besides, something gave him the feeling that Anakin would never truly be out of his hair. And he didn’t really mind it too much.

“I’m sorry, Anakin, but I think you’ll be stuck with me for a while yet,” Obi-Wan said, settling back into his bed. His apprentice was right; these beds were rather uncomfortably soft. Maybe Anakin had the right idea sleeping on the sofa.

“You mean you’re stuck with _me_ ,” came Anakin’s amused voice in the darkness.

“Always so contrary,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Go to sleep now.”

After one last chuckle, Anakin fell silent, and it was only a moment before the sounds of his deep, rhythmic breathing told Obi-Wan he was already asleep. He himself lay awake in the darkness for a few more moments thinking- and trying not to worry- about his irrepressible Padawan before sleep took him as well.


End file.
